


Pas de Deux

by AralezInSpace



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Angst, Ballet, Dancer!Ciel, Demon!Claude, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Female!Grell, Hungry Sebastian, M/M, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, No beta lol, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reaper!Grell, Reaper!Will Spears, Slow Burn, Tags Are Hard, demon!Sebastian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28205082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AralezInSpace/pseuds/AralezInSpace
Summary: Pas de deux: a dance for two peopleThe Four Devils Ballet Company in central London was somewhat small, but then again, it had only come into existence a few years ago. Run by former principle dancers and soloists for world renowned companies like the Royal Ballet, it was quickly becoming one of the most watched up-and-coming dance groups, both for the quality of their productions and the prestige of their heads. Sebastian Michaelis, Claude Faustus, Grell Sutcliff, and William Spears had been friends for years, and when they could no longer hear the siren song of performing on stage, they decided to start their own company, to put up their own creative endeavors and teach new dancers.But this prestigious company hides a dark secret, and Ciel Phantomhive is about to be caught in a dance of devils...
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	1. Port de Bras

Ciel Phantomhive shoved his duffel bag further under the seat with his heel as the train sped through the London underground. His stomach churned up in his throat, nerves and anxiety whirling around like a hive of angry bees. He mentally ran through the checklist of everything in his duffel bag, even though it wouldn’t do him much good if he had actually forgotten something: tights, dance belt, ballet shoes, character shoes, water bottle, protein bar, folder with application and resume, change of clothes, phone, charger, wallet, foot tape. 

The Four Devils Ballet Company in central London was somewhat small, but then again, it had only come into existence a few years ago. Run by former principle dancers and soloists for world renowned companies like the Royal Ballet, it was quickly becoming one of the most watched up-and-coming dance groups, both for the quality of their productions and the prestige of their heads. Sebastian Michaelis, Claude Faustus, Grell Sutcliff, and William Spears had been friends for years, and when they could no longer hear the siren song of performing on stage, they decided to start their own company, to put up their own creative endeavors and teach new dancers. 

Ciel had seen Sebastian Michaelis as the Cavalier in the Royal Ballet’s Nutcracker the year before he left the company. He remembered his steps being light and graceful as shadows, the lights on the stage accentuating his sharp cheekbones and somewhat sinister aura. Most people expect the Cavalier to look and dance like a Disney prince, but Sebastian’s Cavalier was raw and sensual, Michaelis gliding effortlessly through the choreography. 

The young dancer was jolted out of his thoughts by the automated “Mind the gap” as the train pulled into the station. Rolling his shoulders to release the tension of the ride, he reached under the seat for his duffle bag, slung it over his shoulder, and made his way above ground with the rest of the passengers going about their day. 

His feet quickly carried him to the company’s building, a renovated warehouse that housed their offices, two studios, and a modest performance space. Hoisting the bag more securely on his shoulder, Ciel took a deep breath and pushed open the door. 

Every dance studio somehow had the same scent, a combination of must, old leather, sweat, and whatever kind of candle had been chosen to burn that day. He followed the signs with arrows that said _auditions_ up the main staircase to the larger of the two studios, where about a dozen other dancers were stretching around the edges of the room. Directly down the hall was a restroom, and Ciel slipped in to put on his dance belt and tights before going into the studio. 

Staring at his tired reflection in the mirror, he took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Alright Phantomhive,” he told his reflection, “You’ve got this. Just do your best. You can do this.” A hesitant pause. “I think I can do this. Hoo boy…” He took another breath and splashed some cold water on his face to help him focus. Wiping his damp hands on his tights, he made his way back to the studio, kicking off his sneakers. Today was only the first of three full days of auditions, and this group would probably only be here for a few hours before the next group came in. Along the front wall, in front of the tall mirrors, was a folding table covered in papers with four seats behind it. Chatting quietly amongst themselves were the four people who would decide his fate. 

Claude Faustus, spectacles glinting in the lights of the studio. Will Spears, briefly glancing down his angular nose at the papers in front of him. Grell Sutcliffe, her vibrantly red hair pulled into a tight French braid down her back. And Sebastian Michaelis, an arm slung casually over the back of his chair pulling his black t shirt across the toned muscles of his chest. Ciel swallowed past the hard lump in his throat as he placed his bag on the floor and took out the folder with his resume and application. Gradually, the other dancers did the same and placed their papers on the table, most with a brief smile at the four company directors. Ciel took his place in this line, rubbing his now sweating hands on his tights. 

Sebastian’s eyes flickered over the dancers warming up and waiting to deliver their applications. They looked like a good group, but looks weren’t everything. A slight young man with hair the color of thunderclouds and eyes like sapphires stepped up to the table to hand in his application, hands trembling slightly. Sebastian smiled to himself; he remembered audition jitters all too well. The young man flashed a quick smile at him and the other directors before heading to the back corner where his bag was sitting, plopping onto the floor to put on his ballet shoes. 

Sebastian couldn’t take his eyes off this one. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, like water flowing through an unblocked stream. He was, dare he say it, _beautiful_. Running his fingers through inky hair, he couldn’t help but hope that his technique was impeccable. Sebastian’s hands found his application, one Ciel Phantomhive. His resume was pretty standard, listing the dance schools he had studied and trained at, the local dance companies he had performed with before moving to the city. Placing the papers to one side, Sebastian picked up his pen and made a mark on the application, the same one he placed on the applications of any dancer he was particularly interested in. 

He glanced up at Ciel again, who was now sitting against the wall and stretching, bending at the waist over straight legs to touch his toes. Wine colored eyes flashing blood red, he took a deep breath through his nose, trying to get even a whiff of his soul. What he could smell was mostly the dank aroma of the studio, but with the undercurrent of something divinely delicious, a hint of ambrosia he hadn’t gotten even the slightest whiff of in hundreds of years. Releasing the breath with a sigh, he resigned himself to the fact he’d have to wait until the spritely dancer was in front of him. His heart briefly clenched in his chest. This young man was definitely one to keep an eye on. 

Claude glanced at the clock on the wall, 10am on the dot. “Well,” he murmured. “Are we ready to begin?” The three other directors settled into their chairs and gave him a nod. “Good morning everyone!” Claude said as he stood and circled to the front of the table, the dancers all directing their gazes to him. “I’m Claude Faustus, one of the directors of the company. Behind me are Sebastian Michaelis, Grell Sutcliffe, and Will Spears. You will be contacted in about five days regarding any offer of employment with the company. Let’s get started.” 

A few dancers, including Ciel, pulled the metal barres into the middle of the studio before pinning their nametags to the fronts of their shirts or leotards. Claude pulled up song he wanted on his laptop and plugged it in to the speakers. “We’ll start with pliés, two demi’s, one grande in first, second, fourth, and fifth position. After grande in fifth, back to first, cambré forward, come up, cambré back, come up, relevé, turn, other side.” The dancers nodded and took their places at the barre. Sebastian and the other directors picked up their pens, ready to make notes. 

Ciel took a breath as the music started, counting the beats in his mind. _Demi,_ he thought to himself, _demi, grande…_ He winced internally as both his knees gave a loud crack when he sank into the grande plié, but if his ears were correct he wasn’t the only one. The familiar pull and burn in his legs and feet as he moved into second position brought a small smile to his face, and he sighed in contentment. Even doing exercises at the barre brought Ciel a sense of peace and joy he only found when dancing. 

While three of the directors glanced from dancer to dancer, Sebastian only had eyes for Ciel. He was on the side of the barre closest to the table, and Sebastian could see every twitch of his arms and legs as he moved through the routine. Ciel had an otherworldly grace about him, seeming to float through the moves and hover above the floor when he went onto his toes. And that little smile on his face, so serene and relaxed… Sebastian’s throat tightened and he resisted the urge to smile in return. _Focus Michaelis,_ he scolded himself, _you’re supposed to be impartially making notes._

Before he knew it the dancers had turned back to the first side and Claude paused the music. “Right, next tendus.” 

The barre segment of the audition went much like a standard ballet class, and Ciel was covered in a thin sheen of sweat by the time Claude told them to put the barres away and take five minutes to have some water before moving into the center. Sebastian released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and relaxed against the back of his chair. The thirty minutes he had just spent watching Ciel dance were nothing short of exquisite. 

”You seem preoccupied, Michaelis,” Grell goaded him with a little nudge. “Any of these young hopefuls catch your eye?” Sebastian returned her shove with a smirk. “A few. One in particular. But I’ll tell you all about him later, I think.” 

”Right everyone,” Claude said after briefly cleaning his spectacles with a handful of his shirt, “Come into the center, we’ll start with some jumps.” 

The dancers sorted themselves into three lines, each mentally weighing the pros and cons of being in the front. “I know you’re all in windows so you can see,” Claude began over his shoulder, “But we’ll rotate the lines so everyone can get a chance in the front.” 

After jumps they did pirouettes in the center, stretching, a slow adagio that tested the limits of their control and balance, and went across the floor with turns, leaps, and an allegro. Ciel’s body practically sang as the floated across the floor, counting the beats in his mind in time with the names of the steps. The directors’ heads followed each group of dancers across the floor, looking back and forth around the studio and sometimes squinting to get a better look at someone’s nametag. 

_Waltz, two, three, four, tombée pas de bourré, double- shit-_ Ciel thought to himself as he wobbled slightly coming out of his double pirouette; a mistake on something like that just wouldn’t do. _keep going,_ he reminded himself in that split second. _balancé, balancé, balancé, balancé, tombée pas de bourré, glissade, assemblé. Tombée pas de bourré, glissade, pas de chat, tombé pas de bourré, glissade, grand jete REACH-_

The landing was perfect. All he had to do was stretch to arabesque, one foot pointed, reaching to the heavens before the moment was over- 

Then he locked eyes with Sebastian. 

Ciel froze. Those dark carnelian eyes held him fixed in arabesque for what seemed like an eternity, the man behind them seeming… hungry. Like a predator that had just caught sight of its prey hidden in the brush. The barest hint of a smirk touched Sebastian’s face as he beheld Ciel’s deer-doing-an-arabesque-in-headlights wide eyes. The demon could hear the young man’s heart pounding in his chest from the effort of dancing and what was that he smelled in the nectar of his soul? Ah yes, the slightest hint of fear, how delicious. This man’s soul was truly something to behold, the most uniquely exquisite soul he had seen in centuries. 

Chuckling lowly to himself, he released Ciel’s gaze, his eyes dropping to the sheet of notes he had been taking. Heart in his throat, Ciel lowered his arms and stepped out of the arabesque, moving to the wall to join the other dancers that had already gone across the floor. 

Once everyone had gone across the floor, Claude turned off the music and said, “Right, take two minutes to get some water then we’ll do some partner work.” The bottom dropped out of Ciel’s stomach. Partnering had always been his weakest skill. His slight build was about the same size as many of the women he danced with, and as such it was harder for him to do lifts than nearly all of the burlier men he had danced with. His friends in school had often joked that with a wig and some pointe shoes, Ciel could easily take the place of one of the women should they become sick or injured. The technique wasn’t the problem; his mind could easily comprehend where each of the moving parts went and how they worked. His body just didn’t have the raw physical strength. 

Claude paired them off, and a spritely blonde young woman bounced over to Ciel, immediately dropping to a knee to retie the ribbons on her pointe shoes. “I’m Lizzy,” she introduced herself, looking up at Ciel with large emerald eyes. 

”Ciel, nice to meet you.” She stood once her shoes felt as comfortable as they were likely to be and shook hands with her partner. “You look nervous,” she murmured, once again displaying the gentle bluntness of her personality. She seemed to have no problem stating harsh truths, but somehow managed to do it without making the receiver of said truths feel any worse for hearing them. 

”Don’t tell anyone,” Ciel stage whispered back, trying to use humor to cover the anxiety she had unerringly found, “But lifts are actually my worst skill. Could never develop the muscle mass.” Lizzy giggled, but it wasn’t unkind, but rather the giggle of two friends sharing a secret. 

”Don’t worry,” she whispered back, a hand conspiratorially covering her mouth, “I’ve got your back. Partnering is a team effort.” 

Using Grell as his partner, Claude demonstrated a short pas de deux with partnered turns and a series of lifts. “Gentlemen,” he reminded them, “You are essentially a third leg for your partner.” A wry smile touched his face. “It’s actually a lot like a relationship. Mutual support and trust.” 

Sebastian tried and failed to stifle a snort, which he masked by coughing into his elbow. Will, however, had noticed, and goaded, “Yea not like you’d know much about either, Michaelis.” 

”Piss off,” Sebastian shot back. He frowned, busying himself by pretending to sort the applications in front of him. Will had touched on a nerve; Sebastian’s last long term relationship hadn’t exactly ended well. 

The pairs went two at a time to perform the combination. Lizzie had been true to her word, using her own strength to hold herself up in Ciel’s grasp as much as Ciel used his strength to lift her off the ground. The young man relaxed more and more as they moved through the steps, keeping in perfect time with Lizzie despite learning the routine mere minutes ago. 

Sebastian was once again roused watching Ciel dance, desire settling in the pit of his stomach like a rock. Desire, and… anger? Aggravated wishing? In a blink, he had words for it: how he wished he was the one moving Ciel through the air, supporting his slender form with strong hands in the lifts, guiding him with a hand through the turns, steps perfectly in synch. Dear hell below what was _wrong_ with him? He took a deep breath to calm himself but that ended up being a mistake. The scent of Ciel’s soul combined with his sweat and eucalyptus shampoo filled his nose. His breath came out with a low growl and he forced himself to be calm. 

That Ciel Phantomhive’s soul was exquisite, it wouldn’t do to ambush him now and take it. This was a soul that would need to be cultivated, nourished, molded with careful hands. Besides, in a dance company run by another demon and two reapers, they surely weren’t oblivious to the ambrosia the young dancer exuded with every breath and step. His co-directors would surely have their eyes on him as well. This was going to be a long game, but worth every second. 

After partnering, they once again had a quick water break before being called one at a time to demonstrate a series of skills, difficult turns and jumps. The three directors made notes while Claude half barked steps at the dancers like a drill sergeant. Sebastian, Grell, and Will took meticulous notes on each dancer’s technique, scrutinizing them as if they were cells under a microscope. It took most of his self control, but Sebastian managed to outwardly show no more interest in Ciel than he did the other dancers. The young man’s technique was around average for the amount of schooling he’d had, but his expressiveness and raw sincerity with which he danced made him captivating to watch. 

Once Claude was done putting the dancers through their paces and declared the audition session over, the dancers heaved a sigh of relief and sat down against the walls to take off their shoes and pack up their bags. Ciel kicked off his ballet slippers and drank the rest of his water as he wiggled his toes. Lizze shouted a goodbye to him as she left the studio, which he acknowledged with a wave and a smile. 

Ciel caught a glimpse of his reflection in the studio mirrors: he was flushed, strands of hair matted to his forehead with sweat. His legs were lazily spread, his torso slumped over his knees. He looked in need of a good nap, or a large cup of coffee. Giving himself a shake, he shoved his ballet shoes in his duffle bag and took out his socks, pulling them over slightly aching toes before standing and yanking his jeans on over his tights. 

A quick glance up from his fly showed him that Sebastian had stood from the hard plastic chair that had no doubt cut off the circulation to his butt from almost two hours of sitting. Trying not to openly gape, Ciel watched as he stretched his arms over his head and leaned backwards, stretching out his back. The move was casual, but Sebastian had done it with an unconscious, sensuous grace, the hem of his black t shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of his toned midsection. Ciel gulped, lowering his eyes again as he felt a blush burn across the bridge of his nose. 

Just as Ciel had lowered his eyes, Sebastian’s flickered over to the dancer that fascinated him so. He could feel the young man’s eyes on him, watching as he stretched his aching muscles, yet at the moment he chose to look Ciel was once again focused on packing up his bag. Casually leaning back against the mirrors, Sebastian crossed his arms and continued to watch Ciel, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Every single one of his movements flowed together, from wriggling his feet into worn sneakers to stretching his arms through the sleeves of his coat. The nimble fingers as he plugged headphones into his phone and unlocked it, thumb flicking across the screen as he presumably looked for a song he wanted to listen to. 

Lewd thoughts raced through the demon’s mind, imagining just what other moves his dancer’s physique was capable of. How they would move together, shadows and waves. A black swan and a bluebird, flitting about and around each other. 

Satisfied that everything was in order and he was ready to leave, Ciel’s eyes flickered up once again, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Sebastian, knowing that if he didn’t make the cut, he’d probably never be this close to the enigmatic dancer again. If that was the case, he’d have to console himself memories and his imagination. Ciel mentally slapped himself for getting so worked up over one man. _Crushing on a professional dancer that will decide your fate in a few days, great plan Phantomhive,_ he chided himself. This time, when he looked up, their eyes met once again. 

Heat suffused Ciel’s face again, changing his slightly rosy flush to a deep pomegranate blush of embarrassment. Despite the impossibility, he was certain that Sebastian knew each and every scandalous thought that had gone through Ciel’s mind during the two hours they had been in the same space. Sebastian’s smirk grew; he knew he had the young dancer trapped for just a few seconds, and needed to make a lasting impression. 

”It was a pleasure to meet you, Ciel Phantomhive.” The word pleasure rolled around his mouth before floating across the studio to Ciel’s ears. The young man managed a slightly choked, “You too, Mr. Michaelis,” and a bashful smile before ducking out of the studio. Sebastian chuckled to himself, but quickly frowned when he saw the intense looks his three co-directors were giving him. 

”Come now, Sebastian,” Claude condescended, peering over the top of his spectacles at his fellow demon, “Surely you didn’t think you were the only one to catch the scent of his soul.” The two reapers had separated into factions, Grell standing beside Sebastian and Will taking his place next to Claude. 

”Surely, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sebastian grit back, standing up straight and pulling his shoulders back, keeping his arms crossed. 

”His soul seems to be of quite rare quality,” Claude purred, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “You and I could both gather that from just the short time he was here. But sadly, that soul will only feed one of us.” 

Sebastian’s frowned intensified. “You are correct, but bold to assume that it will be you. That boy is mine. Your essences wouldn’t mix, like oil and water.” His smirk came back. “You’d have indigestion for decades.” 

”Besides,” Grell piped up, “Phantomhive only seemed to have eyes for Sebastian.” She wagged a taunting finger at Claude and Will. “Seems you boys are already at a disadvantage.” 

Will hmph-ed. “We shall see.” He let a deep breath out through his nose. “The next group will be here in an hour. We should take some time to relax.” In unspoken agreement, the four filed out of the studio and headed their separate ways, gathering themselves to sample the next set of dancers. 

~~~~~

Ciel had been checking his email almost obsessively for the last week, waiting on edge for any message from the company directors. In the meantime, he had worked as many hours as he could at his part time barista job, socking away any extra money for ballet supplies he’d inevitably need in the future. Ballet shoes, resume copies, and tights didn’t pay for themselves, neither did the gym membership or food. 

When Ciel returned to his modest flat after a nine hour shift, he slumped against the door, trying to find the energy to kick the shoes off his aching feet and make it to the couch. Dinner would consist of a deli turkey sandwich, a bag of chips, and probably a bowl of ice cream. After being berated by customers and staving off audition-related anxiety, he felt he had earned a sweet treat. Keeping his sweet tooth in check was by far the hardest part of being a dancer and needing to keep his body in top condition. 

Grumbling to himself, Ciel toed off his shoes and flung his coat on a kitchen chair, shuffling to the bathroom for a hot shower. The steaming water helped relax his muscles and relieved some of the anxiety. Maybe there would be an email when he got out; after all the world seemed to work that way. Things never appeared when you were watching for them. 

Once the day’s grime had been washed off, Ciel wrapped the towel around his waist and padded to his bedroom, immediately grabbing his phone off the bed. Sure enough, there was an email notification. 

Heart now racing in his throat, fingers slightly trembling, he opened the message and read it out loud, just to make sure he wasn’t being tricked. 

”To Mr. Ciel Phantomhive. We are pleased to offer you a position in the Four Devils corps de ballet for the upcoming season. You will find attached to this email all the forms related to hiring, company bi-laws, and accepting your position, please fill it out and email it back before your first rehearsal on January 3rd. If you have any further questions, do not hesitate to email or call us. Yours sincerely, Claude Faustus, Sebastian Michaelis, William Spears, and Grell Sutcliffe, board of directors.” 

He read the email again, eyes quickly scanning over the words. A smile spread across his face, and he resisted the urge to shout his glee to the world, reminded of the fact he had neighbors both above and below him. Instead, he jumped up and punched the air, silently shouting his joy. 

In the back of his mind, he couldn’t decide which he was more elated about: making the cut of a prestigious ballet company, or the prospect of seeing Sebastian Michaelis again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been rediscovering my passion for ballet, and this story was begging to be written. No idea how long it's gonna chapter-wise, just the slowest burn I'm capable of!
> 
> I'm including reference videos for the combinations that are described in each chapter in the notes. I understand not everyone who reads this will have a working knowledge of ballet so I filmed myself doing the combinations for visual reference. Please be kind; I'm not the best dancer in the world but I really enjoy it and hopefully the videos help you visualize the scenes.
> 
> [Video 1](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpCFqM2DI-4&feature=share&fbclid=IwAR0XO3aMhw_jJChDi55vQzngkPxbAIi98W3ffoWWx8mhO9WV3BojN2qvPlI)  
> [Video 2](https://www.youtube.com/watch?fbclid=IwAR3y16USaNJjtwgD-QIy-V2TTMCUD3cWhPaXrGzvahEpM_-LRpaNua8e8xQ&v=lVCZOebq-dQ&feature=youtu.be)
> 
> Come visit my tumblr @AralezInSpace and let me know what you think, or just to chat! Comments and kudos also feed my soul~


	2. Plié

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plié: bending of the knees. The first exercise done at the barre to warm up the muscles and develop balance and flexibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments fuel my writing in the same way applause feeds my performances on stage (god I miss performing) ANYWAY please let me know what you think, or if there are any questions on ballet terminology please don't hesitate to drop them in the comments or send me a message on tumblr @AralezInSpace. Love you!

The week between Christmas and New Years seemed to stretch an even longer eternity than usual. Not that he’d admit it to anyone, but Sebastian Michaelis had haunted his dreams every night since the audition. His crimson eyes taunted Ciel from the edges of his unconscious, a sensation of being a bug examined under a microscope that Ciel was almost mortified to enjoy. 

And in just a few days, he would begin to find out if Sebastian’s great interest in him at the audition had been genuine. Ciel had filled out and returned the forms he had received, and was simply waiting for rehearsals and classes to start. How many from his audition group had made it? Who else would he meet? Corps de ballet were the lowest on the company totem pole, and Ciel knew he’d have to prove himself in everything he did. 

It came at the pace of molasses going uphill, but finally January 3rd came. Ciel hadn’t slept a wink the night before, and was up before the crack of dawn to get everything ready. He had packed his bag the night before, but double and triple checked everything just to make sure: tights, ballet shoes, foot tape, snacks, water, sports drink, wallet, headphones, deodorant. 

Breakfast was small, two slices of toast were all that his stomach could handle. On his phone, he glanced over the schedule for the first day that he had been emailed. There would be an orientation of sorts before classes where they would discuss the performance season, as well as any questions dancers may have about being in a professional ballet company of this caliber. Ciel had performed with quite a few companies over the years, but this was by far the most prestigious, and with that prestige would come a different, and probably longer, list of demands. 

Without being entirely aware of how he got there, Ciel was walking into the Four Devils Company building at 9:30. At half an hour until they started, Ciel knew he really only had 15 minutes to himself. He remembered his middle school dance teacher telling him “If you’re 30 minutes early, you’re early. If you’re 15 minutes early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late.” 

When he walked into the studio at 9:45, tights on under jeans, about a dozen dancers were mingling around the edges of the studio. The four directors were huddled around a plastic table again, talking quietly amongst themselves. 

”Ciel!” He had just a minute to locate the source of the shrill call of his name before the wind was knocked out of him by a mass of blonde curls. “Oh I’m so glad you made it! I thought I wasn’t going to know anyone here!” 

”Lizzy, right?” he replied with a smile, “Yea it’s good to see you too.” He lowered his voice to a murmur. “Are you nervous?” 

A conspiratorial giggle. “Beyond nervous. I couldn’t sleep at all last night!” Ciel giggled as well and nervously rubbed the back of his head. “Glad to know I’m not the only one. I’ve performed with companies before but this is a much bigger deal than any of them.” 

”Me too. Our whole lives are going to change by being in this company.” Ciel nodded, lost in his own thoughts, certain he had felt a pair of crimson eyes on him not moments ago. Yet when he looked up, Sebastian was still talking calmly to Claude, although there seemed to be a great deal of tension in the spectacled director’s shoulders. Maybe he hadn’t slept well either? 

At 10:00 on the dot, William cleared his throat to get the dancers’ attention. “Good morning and welcome to the company. I’d like to congratulate you all; you have clearly worked very hard to be here but the work is only just beginning.” The words seemed hollow to Ciel; he had heard a similar sentiment from the director of every company he had joined. 

”Before we start dancing,” Will continued, “we’ll have a short orientation of sorts. So come up to the table and pick up a sheet detailing our class and rehearsal schedule as well as our upcoming performance season.” Lizzie grabbed two sheets and handed one to Ciel, and they took their places on the floor with the rest of the dancers, legs casually spread or in a butterfly stretch. 

The young dancer’s mind began to wander again as Will droned on about classes and rehearsals, his eyes drifting over to Sebastian. The enigmatic dancer was relaxed in his chair, still as a statue. His body reclined around the chair like it was a plush divan and not a few hunks of plastic and metal. His legs were casually spread, toes wiggling slightly in black socks. A blush heated Ciel’s cheeks, and he glanced back down at his sheet before Sebastian could notice him staring. 

”There are several members of the company who are not here at this moment but you will meet them later. Ronald Knox is the trainer for our company, he will be assisting you with your fitness regimens. Nina Hopkins is our costumer, please head downstairs after orientation in groups to be measured. And Alois Trancy is our physical therapist, he will help prevent injuries and treat any that may occur during your time with us. Any questions?” 

There was a collective headshake from the assembled dancers and Will placed his copy of the paper on the table. “Right, Sebastian will be running the morning session, I have some work to do, and Grell and Claude will be taking you in groups to be measured with Nina. You have five minutes to finish getting ready for class.” 

A murmured, “Thank you five,” before the chatter broke out again. Sebastian and Claude stood up and pushed the plastic table into a corner while Will and Grell packed up their papers and bags. 

Ciel’s eyes once again drifted over to Sebastian as he slipped out of his jeans and tugged on his ballet shoes, pinching parts of his tights and letting them snap back against his legs to fit better. This was it, he had to impress him right from the start. Once he had the music set up, Sebastian had them get the barres out and pick their spots. 

”Now I’m still learning most of your names,” he said with a bashful smile, “so please bear with me.” Several of the women who were new to the company giggled to themselves, proving that Ciel was not the only one who had been taken by Sebastian’s charm. 

Sebastian’s barre began much like the one at auditions, with pliés, tendus, and glissés. It was once they got to fondus that it became a little complicated. Sebastian positioned himself in front of Ciel at the barre to demonstrate, the young dancer taking a few steps back and forcing himself with every ounce of his willpower to watch Sebastian’s reflection in the mirrors and _not_ at the shape of his ass in his casually fitted workout pants. 

He could hear Sebastian describing the routine, but the words barely registered. Ciel was completely entranced by Sebastian’s sinuous grace, the movement of his muscles under his clothes. His technique was perfect, the steps appearing to be as easy as breathing. 

”...and finish. Got it?” The other dancers nodded, turning back to their spots at the barre. Ciel however was still under Sebastian’s spell, his eyes somewhat unfocused. Sebastian smirked. 

”Did you have a question, Phantomhive?” His teasing tone brought Ciel crashing back to earth, a soft blush touching his cheeks. 

”No,” he stammered slightly, “I’ve got it.” Sebastian chuckled but said no more, he just strode to the speaker and started the music. Ciel’s eyes darted around to the other dancers, quickly analyzing what they did. He had heard most of what Sebastian had said, but not much of it stuck. Luckily, it seemed like most of the dancers were going at their own pace and not strictly on time with the music, so he could afford to be a beat or two behind. 

Right away he noticed his balance was off, what was wrong with him? _Pull yourself together Phantomhive,_ he chided himself mentally, _Yes Michaelis is hot but you need to FOCUS._ Taking a deep breath, his brow furrowed slightly as he forced himself to concentrate on the workings of every muscle in his body, the feel of his feet pressing into the floor, the stretch in his legs. Anything but how flustered Sebastian made him. 

The demon however, was not oblivious to Ciel’s internal struggle. He could smell it on his soul. It bubbled gently like a pot of water just barely starting to boil. The smirk on his face grew and he crossed his arms, his eyes flickering over all the dancers to observe their technique, but always landing back on Ciel. There was no doubt, he was definitely having an effect on the spritely dancer. Just how far could he push him? Time would tell. 

Ciel’s concentration was pushed to the limit for the rest of the class as he forced himself to focus on what Sebastian was saying and not how his smooth baritone caressed the names of each step as if they were his dance partner. By the end of class, his nerves were absolutely frayed, and the minute Sebastian dismissed them for lunch, Ciel ran to the men’s room and locked the door. 

He ran the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. God, he had to get himself together. How on earth was he going to prove himself to the company when Sebastian’s mere presence rendered him flustered and off balance? The prospect of seeing and working with him every day had at first seemed a blessing, but Ciel was now starting to think it was a curse. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the rattle of the doorknob and to his horror, Sebastian’s voice. 

”Hello? Is anyone in there?” Ciel cursed under his breath and hurriedly forced himself to relax before opening the door. 

”Sorry,” he choked, “I didn’t realize it was locked.” 

”No problem.” Sebastian smiled as he brushed past Ciel into the men’s room. “Some of the doors need to be replaced, we had quite a bit of water damage last year.” He washed his hands and rubbed some water on the back of his neck, Ciel’s eyes transfixed on the frew droplets that trickled into the collar of his pitch t-shirt. A quick sniff told Sebastian of the continued effect he was having on Ciel, so he smoothed his expression from a knowing smirk to one of concern. 

”Are you alright, Phantomhive?” In a movement almost too fast for Ciel to track, Sebastian had stepped into his space and pressed the back of a cold hand to Ciel’s forehead. “You’re looking a little feverish, I’d hate for you to become ill your first week.” 

Ciel was frozen in place, his heart stopped and lodged in his throat like a rock. “Y-yea, I’m alright,” he stuttered, “just didn’t sleep well last night. Nerves.” 

The knowing smirk returned to Sebastian’s face with a soft, low chuckle. “I understand, believe me. I was the same way in my first professional company.” The hand on Ciel’s forehead moved to his shoulder, and despite the coldness of his skin, Sebastian’s touch seemed to burn him through the fabric of his shirt. 

”Try to get some rest tonight, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how gruelling a company schedule is, and I see a bright future ahead of you in our little group.” 

Ciel’s eyes widened slightly. So he hadn’t been imagining it, Sebastian really had been that interested in him at the audition. God only knew why, but something about him had caught Sebastian’s eye. Now the challenge was proving that his interest hadn’t been misplaced. Despite his nerves, a smile touched Ciel’s face. Sebastian was at least a full head taller than him, but he gathered his courage and forced his eyes up from his etched collarbones to crimson eyes. 

”Thanks. I’m really excited for the season and the chance to learn from all of you.” 

Sebastian’s smile grew. This boy was trying so hard to remain unaffected, or to at least convince Sebastian that he was in charge of his roiling emotions. How sweet. Now was not the time for the real first move, this was just the beginning. He couldn’t reveal all his secrets at once. Ciel would have to be eased in, he had to want it. 

Sebastian chuckled again. “I’m glad. Now get yourself some lunch before the next class. And do try to rest tonight. For me?” 

It was those last two words that did Ciel in. His mind went blank and the blush across his nose deepend to a vivid rose shade, a more than slightly pleasant knot of tension settling in his stomach. Jesus Christ he’d do anything Sebastian wanted if all his requests were in that smooth growl. 

He managed to cover up his fluster slightly with a short laugh. “I’m sure I’ll be in bed early tonight whether I want to or not. See you later, Mr. Michaelis.” One more quick smile before he left the men’s room to pull himself together before the next class and think about this conversation. God help him if this was all an act and Sebastian wasn’t interested in him _like that._

”Oh, Phantomhive?” The dancer stopped in his tracks, turning around to face his director again. Sebastian was holding a stall door open with one hand, peeking out from behind it, a small piece of his black fringe hanging over his eyes. 

”Please, call me Sebastian.” 

~~~~~

After lunch they went back to class, and Ciel was called down with Lizzie and two other dancers to get measured by Nina. The costume shop was in the basement of the warehouse, with crafting tables, shelves full of fabric, and stacks of plastic drawers labeled with masking tape arranged around steel columns that held the building up. 

”Right Nina,” Grell read from her clipboard, “I’ve brought you Ciel, Lizzie, Finny, and Mey-Rin.” 

”Thank you!” Nina chirped from behind a clipboard, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose and several wisps of copper hair coming loose from her messy bun. She shooed four other dancers away from her table and held her measuring tape in her teeth as she finished writing something down. “Right, I’ll take Lizzie first.” 

Lizzie meandered between tables and shelves to Nina, standing in front of the costumer with her arms held out to her sides. Ciel watched as Nina wrapped her tape measure around various parts of Lizzie’s body and quickly wrote the numbers down. Once she was done, she handed Lizze a blank form and said, “Please fill this out with your pointe details so our shoemaker can start getting pairs ready for you.” Lizzie nodded and grabbed a pen, moving out of the way so Nina could continue measuring. 

”I’ll take Ciel next.” Slightly startled, Ciel rounded the table and stood in front of Nina. As she began the process of measuring, she muttered low enough for only Ciel to hear, “Oh goodness you’re tiny.” He suppressed an exasperated sigh; every costumer made similar comments about his stature. 

It took around 30 minutes for all the dancers to be measured, and when they returned to class, Sebastian was doing adagios across the floor with the rest of the class. He gave Grell a short wave of acknowledgement as they took their place in the back, keenly observing what the other dancers did before it was their turn. Ciel and Lizzie murmured the steps to each other, hiding smiles behind their hands before taking their spots to go across. 

”Work your turn out” Sebastian called to them with crossed arms, frowning slightly as they landed the first pirouette and prepared for the next. Ciel mentally kicked himself, how could he forget something so basic? So far, impressing Sebastian was not off to a good start. 

The rest of the class passed relatively without incident, unless one counted Ciel’s continuous stream of consciousness reminding himself of the most basic technical elements: bend your knees, engage your core, work your turnout. It was taking all of his focus to dance at his usual level. 

At the end of class, Sebastian held them back for a moment. “We have our first company showcase in under a month. Everyone will be dancing as part of a pair or group, so we will be having auditions tomorrow to help figure out who to put with who. Good work today, you’re all released.” 

A collective, “Thank you released,” before all the dancers seemed to slump at once, heading back to the edges of the studio to take off their shoes and pack their bags. “Oh, Ciel? Do you have a moment?” 

Sebastian might as well have shouted the words for the way they stopped Ciel’s heart in his chest, even though his voice was barely audible over the conversations happening around him. Lizzie playfully elbowed him in the ribs and teased, “Ooo, what could Mr. Michaelis possibly want with you?” 

”Beats me,” Ciel muttered back, throwing his ballet shoes in his bag before tugging on his jeans. “Better go see though.” 

The young dancer padded to the front of the studio where Sebastian was casually leaning against the mirrors. “You wanted to see me?” 

The director’s face was furrowed in a concerned frown. “Are you sure you’re alright Phantomhive? Your work in class today was far from the level you presented at the audition.” He inhaled a deep breath through his nose, trying to find a crack in Ciel’s outer shell. 

”Yea, I’m sure,” Ciel murmured back, refusing to meet Sebastian’s gaze. His own brow furrowed as he recalled the morning. “Although, come to think of it, Mr. Faustus didn’t look too well when we got here.” A seemingly casual shrug. “Maybe there’s a bug going around.” Sebastian chuckled, pushing off the mirror so he was standing straight up, hands on his hips. 

”Claude isn’t what you call a morning person; I assure you he’s perfectly healthy.” Another lingering hand on Ciel’s shoulder with a tangible transfer of energy and intent, just enough to keep the boy awake at night. Just enough to occupy a corner of his dreams. 

”Do try to get some rest tonight. Tomorrow I want you to show me what you’re really capable of.” 

Rather than blushing, the blood rushed out of Ciel’s face so quickly he thought he’d pass out, that knot of slightly pleasant tension settling in his stomach again. “I’ll do my best,” he managed to choke out. A knowing, almost wolfish smile spread across Sebastian’s face. 

”I expect nothing less. Have a good night, Phantomhive.” The hand on Ciel’s shoulder dropped and the boy turned to leave. He had taken three steps when he looked over his shoulder with a slight smirk, heart racing in his chest as he spoke the words that had come unbidden to his tongue before he backed down. 

”Sebastian?” He could swear the smirk on the other dancer’s face grew, as if he knew what the boy was going to say before he said it. As if he had been waiting for it, a dancer returning their partner’s reverance before the real pas de deux began. 

”Please, call me Ciel.”


	3. Tendu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tendu: stretched. Gradually extending the working leg to the front, side, or back, passing from flat, to demi-pointe, to point, where only the toes are touching the floor.

Ciel did his level best to relax that night, but it was easier said than done, especially with Sebastian’s voice swimming around his brain. A hot bath with lavender salts and a cup of tea helped a little bit, as did slipping into his favorite fuzzy pajamas, as did curling up on the couch with a book, but it was impossible to release every bit of tension and nerves that had accumulated throughout the day. And yes, it was all Sebastian’s fault. 

He didn’t sleep much better than the night before; nerves kept him awake again only this time it was regarding the showcase auditions. Ciel knew he didn’t really have anything to worry about; he’d be dancing in the showcase no matter how well he did. But after being so flustered around Sebastian all of yesterday and letting it affect his dancing, he knew he had to absolutely blow them away. 

The next morning, Ciel woke before the dawn with a defeated, almost petulant moan. Sleep had once again been hard to come by, and he was sure to have noticeable bags under his eyes. He spent a few moments agonizing over whether it would be more beneficial to go back to sleep for forty five minutes, or just cut his losses, get up, and maybe do a light workout. He stared at the ceiling with a sigh; it was already going to be a long day, but going back to sleep would just make him feel worse when he did finally have to wake up. 

Still grumbling to himself, Ciel forced his body to move, clambering out of bed and shivering as he padded to the living room. He pushed the coffee table back towards the couch so he had enough room to do some yoga. Despite his massive yawns and aching muscles at the beginning of the routine, the stretching did help wake him up, and by the time his alarm went off, Ciel was fully awake and ready to get the day going. 

A quick shower and small breakfast later, he once again found himself on the London underground with his duffle bag tucked away under the seat. In a not very dancer-like display of clumsiness, Ciel tripped up the stairs on his way to the surface, just barely catching himself with his hands instead of his face. Now _that_ would have been an embarrassing way to show up to auditions then class. 

Once inside the studio, Ciel flopped down onto the floor and tugged off his sneakers. There was always something strange about the atmosphere on the second day of work. Not quite settled into a routine yet, but enough comfort that you had to remind yourself constantly not to be complacent. 

The four directors were huddled in the corner near the speakers, talking in hushed voices. They seemed to be having an argument, if Claude and Will’s expressions were anything to go by. Both men had angular features to begin with, but their brows were furrowed and distinct frowns touched their faces. Ciel thought he heard Claude hiss and spit his name several times but couldn’t be sure. Ciel knew that Sebastian was interested in him, at least from a professional standpoint, but he had barely given a thought to how the other directors perceived him. Ciel mentally kicked himself. _Sebastian’s not the only one here you have to impress. Get it together Ciel._

The clock struck 9:30 and the four directors immediately broke away from each other, but the tension between them lingered. It was clear to Ciel that Claude and Will had not been able to resolve whatever they were arguing about, and even Sebastian and Grell had deep frowns on their faces. Sebastian rubbed his temples as if to ward off a headache. He took a deep breath, and caught the scent of something absolutely delightful, melting away all the annoyance from having to deal with Claude and Will. Ciel had arrived. 

The young dancer was sitting down against the wall, stuffing his sneakers into his duffle bag and tugging his ballet shoes over bright blue socks. He seemed to be chatting with Lizzie, Finny, and Mey-Rin, or rather, Lizzie had dragged those three over to Ciel and was doing all the talking. While she didn’t hold a candle to Ciel (in Sebastian’s opinion) he definitely agreed they had chosen well when accepting her into the company. 

The other three directors were also observing the little circle Ciel had found himself in the middle of. He seemed to be slightly uncomfortable at first, but Lizzie was quickly dissipating any apprehension. She seemed to have a natural gift for bringing people together. 

”What about her?” Grell crooned in Claude’s ear, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “She’s a cutie, and her soul is also far above and beyond many of the others here.” Claude gave her a little shove back, his frown deepening as he pushed his spectacles back up his nose. 

”You are correct, but ‘above and beyond’ isn’t enough. I want, and will have, the best. And that is Ciel Phantomhive. And if I can deprive Sebastian of such a soul in the process, so much the better.” Grell’s frown deepened. 

”Must you be so cruel?” she pouted, folding her hands and batting her lashes like a petulant child, but unable to hide the mischief. “What did poor Bassy ever do to deserve this?” 

If looks could kill, Grell would be two steps away from death. Claude fixed her with a piercing glare and growled under his breath, “That is absolutely none of your business, although I’m somewhat surprised he hasn’t fed you his own version of events. Now drop it.” Grell’s frown became more petulant, but she backed off, pulling out her phone with a huff and opening her Instagram. 

Sebastian had been focused on Ciel, but even without a demon’s hearing, it would have been hard to ignore the conversation between Grell and Claude. He glared over his shoulder at the two of them before heading over to Ciel, who had broken free of Lizzie’s circle of friends and was stretching on the floor in a corner, his legs spread in a middle split, bending forward at the waist. 

”Good morning, Phantomhive- Ciel.” The first bit was genial and with a polite smile, but the dancer’s first name had been spoken two octaves lower and with a decidedly flirtatious smirk. Ciel jerked up out of the stretch, ignoring how his muscles protested the quick movement. 

”Oh, ‘morning Mr. Michaelis-“ He quickly cleared his throat. “Sebastian.” 

Sebastian’s heart fluttered at the way Ciel said his name, so innocent and guileless. Its polite nonchalance would have fooled any human into thinking that Ciel was in complete control of his emotions, of his body’s involuntary responses, but Sebastian was no human. He could hear Ciel’s heart speed up, could just barely see the slight blush appear on his cheeks, could sense the rush of blood that would create a slight knot of desire in his stomach. 

Ciel was not immune to his advances, he was not oblivious to Sebastian’s interest. And if this brief exchange was anything to go by, Ciel was interested in him too. But more than an up and coming dancer would be in their ballet hero. 

”How did you sleep?” Sebastian asked with a deceptively gentle smile, as if he already knew the answer. 

”Better,” Ciel replied, pulling his legs into a butterfly stretch and focusing his gaze on the bridge of Sebastian’s nose. “How are you? The other directors seem agitated, is everything alright?” 

This boy was innocent and naïve in more ways than one, dear hell below. Not only did he have no idea of the true nature of the directors of his company, but it had never occurred to Sebastian that a member of the corps de ballet, not to mention a new member, would presume to ask about the business of the directors. The innocence and genuine care of the question made Sebastian smile, and the cheekiness and utter audacity made him chuckle low in his throat. 

”Yes, everything is alright as far as the company is concerned. They were settling a personal matter, one that thankfully doesn’t involve me.” Ciel nodded, taking the hint from the slight edge in Sebastian’s voice that he should probably not ask any more questions on the subject. 

”Are we ready to begin?” Grell asked from over by the speaker. “Claude dear, would you like to do the barre?” Claude sighed and rubbed his temples, willing away a growing headache. “Alright, fine.” He narrowed his eyes at Grell before opening the tablet and selecting music. 

The dancers took their places at the barres, wiping sweating hands on tights before fingers wrapped around the metal. Claude described the first exercise, pliés and stretching, while the other directors conversed in the corner in low voices. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, it appeared to Ciel that they were engaged in their conversation, and not watching the dancers. But even if that was the appearance, he knew that he was always being watched in the studio. 

The barre lasted about forty five minutes, after which they got some water and the women switched to their pointe shoes before doing a quick series of technical exercises in the center. Now it was time for auditions proper. 

”Right, everyone in the corner. We’ll go across the floor in groups of… five or six.” He briefly described the combination, sliding across the floor with effortless grace even when just marking the steps. But it was a very different kind of grace: while Sebastian appeared to glide through choreography like a bird in flight, Claude’s movements were smooth, connected, one flowing into the other like a snake winding across the floor. 

Ciel went with Lizzie, Finny, Mey-Rin, another young man named Cheslock, and a tall ballerina named Hannah. She was at least four inches taller than him, and her legs made up a good chunk of that height. Taking a calming breath, Ciel visualized lanes on the floor, lines to stay between when going across the floor so he was still visible, and not in the other dancers’ way. 

Hannah’s long legs were made for arabesques, and nearly catching Ciel in the chin in the process of performing those beautiful steps. Furrowing his brow, Ciel split his concentration between staying in his imaginary lane, his spatial awareness, every muscular process involved in every single step, and somehow there was still room for Sebastian to creep into his subconscious. 

Next they did an allegro in groups of three before a short break where the dancers drank some water and the directors briefly consulted with each other. They took it in turns to glance up at the dancers from their little circle before continuing to discuss amongst themselves. 

Will pushed his spectacles up to the bridge of his nose with a brisk, “Right, let’s pair off for this last bit. Grell, please come be my partner.” 

”Oh any time,” Grell replied with a smile, flouncing over to the front and center of the studio where Will was waiting. 

”Well, I guess there’s no helping it,” Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We’re an odd number.” A pause and a smirk. “I’ll partner with Ciel to demonstrate.” 

Ciel could feel the eyes of every single dancer on him as Sebastian purposefully strode to Ciel and stood next to him, hands on his hips and his narrowed gaze and gloating smirk focused not on Will, but Claude. His fellow director seemed to be seething, nails biting into his palms. 

Meanwhile, Ciel’s every nerve was on fire. _Dear fuck WHY?_ he screamed in his head. He wished the floor would swallow him. There was no way he was going to live this down, especially if Sebastian’s interest in him had been obvious to everyone else since auditions. It was a dream come true and an absolute nightmare. 

Ciel’s hands began to twitch as Will talked through the routine with Grell, marking the steps. “Ciel,” Sebastian murmured, leaning over slightly, “Did you want to mark the routine or do you have it down already?” The question was asked with a knowing smirk, and Ciel’s heart shot into his throat where it settled like a stone. _Focus,_ he chided himself, _This audition is important. Just keep it together and get it over with._

”Yea,” he murmured back, swallowing hard, “Let’s mark it.” 

”Don’t worry,” Sebastian smirked as Will and Grell went back to the beginning to mark it again. “I’ve no trouble dancing the woman’s part.” 

”You’re a foot taller than me!” Ciel hissed back. “How on earth am I supposed to lift you? Besides, shouldn’t I be practicing with someone I’ll probably be dancing with?” Sebastian chuckled. 

”I’m sure you’ll have no trouble doing it with one of the girls when you perform it for us. As I said, don’t worry. You’re in good hands.” Ciel’s flush intensified and he forced himself to breathe evenly through his nose. 

Will counted slowly, “Five, six, seven, and-“ Ciel followed his steps in the mirror, watching Sebastian do the port de bras out of the corner of his eye. _Promenade five, six, seven, eight, and one-_ He presented his hand to Sebastian the way he would with any other partner, fighting a flinch when their fingers touched. It was like a jolt of electricity coursing through his body, a string connecting them through just their fingertips and the steps they were learning. Like they were meant to dance together. 

The first lift was only a few counts of eight away, and Ciel was wracking his brain, trying to figure out how he’d lift a statuesque man like Sebastian when he could barely lift a partner his own size. As if reading his mind while marking the next few steps, Sebastian murmured, “Don’t worry about the lift, we’ll mark it. Just place your hands where they would normally go.” 

_Place my what WHERE?!_ Ciel knew that for this lift, the [fish lift](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F660551470320901707%2F&psig=AOvVaw3rkxKYy2ympvYTC_0gKD6g&ust=1613179265476000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCMCulK-_4-4CFQAAAAAdAAAAABAa), the man’s hands supported the woman at her waist and mid-thigh. Did Sebastian really mean for Ciel to place his hands on his body as they marked it? 

The moment came before he was ready. Sebastian had been counting softly beside him: “Five, six, seven, and lift-“ His back to Ciel, he held one leg in arabesque and his arms flowed to the right position to mark the lift. One of Ciel’s small hands rested lightly on his rib cage, the other just barely tickling his thigh. Sebastian could feel the heat coming off the boy’s skin, could feel the glow of his blush against his back. The lift ended, and they both seemed to exhale a breath they didn’t know they were holding, Ciel’s more tense in its anticipation like a deer in headlights, Sebastian’s as if savoring a soft release. 

They continued to mark the routine, following Will’s reflection in the mirror. When they got to the first set of turns, Ciel stood on tiptoe and reached as high as he could, trying to offer Sebastian some semblance of partnership. The taller dancer chuckled at Ciel’s struggle; he really was quite tiny. Petite and lovely and- _Focus Michaelis,_ he growled to himself, holding a passé for three beats to mark the assisted triple pirouette. 

_Balancé, balance, step tour jetté-_ Ciel exhaled softly as he landed the jump, leaning back slightly and letting his arms flow behind him like wings. _Oh shit._ The shoulder sit was next. That’s it, the ballet gods, if there were any, were trying to kill him. Sebastian was still counting softly, his soft murmur almost hypnotic along with the music. _Just do it,_ Ciel yelled to himself, _Just mark the goddamn lift, just put your hands on his waist! This was his idea, let him reap the consequences._

Filled with that very particular brand of confidence fueled by spite, Ciel furrowed his brow and a devious smirk touched his face. He counted the beats leading up to the lift, his voice low and hard. “Five, six, seven, and lift-“ 

His hands firmly wrapped themselves around Sebastian’s waist, uneven nails biting into the fabric of his shirt. Sebastian’s breath caught in his lungs as a jolt of desire flashed through his entire body. He was feisty, like a trickster faerie lying in wait. The demon could think of nothing but swiftly turning around, slamming Ciel against the wall, wrapping his hand around that slender throat, and the deep blush that would rise to the dancer’s cheeks. Counting the lift’s eight beats was barely an afterthought. 

They got through marking the rest of the combination with significantly greater tension between them than when they started. At the end, both took a long breath through their nose, as if gauging the threat the other posed by scent. A soft exhale, and the moment was broken. Sebastian quickly gathered himself (at least on the surface) and smirked: “Well then Phantomhive, you seem to have it down.” 

”Thank you for partnering me, Mr. Michaelis,” he ground out, anger and hurt bubbling inside him at Sebastian’s use of his surname rather than his first. 

The dancers gathered against the back wall and Claude called the first two pairs to perform the routine full out. Ciel watched them carefully, trying to visualize the lifts with a partner closer to his own stature. When it was his turn after three groups, Claude said, “Lizzie, would you mind going twice to partner with Ciel?” 

”Nope!” Lizzie practically bounced to the back right corner of the room where Ciel was waiting. Inwardly he heaved a sigh of relief; Lizzie had been his partner at the company auditions, the best partnering audition Ciel had had to date. “You got this,” she whispered to him, standing to his right to begin the combo. 

Feeling much better about the combo than before, Ciel glided across the floor with Lizzie in perfect time. When they got to the fish lift, he confidently placed one hand on her waist and held her thigh with the other. Even with his arms trembling, he trusted Lizzie to help him hold her up, and Lizzie trusted him to not let her fall on her face. Even though they had only met a few short weeks ago, the bond between them as dancers was strong. The other dancers, along with Grell and Will, found it beautiful to watch even while inducing slight jealousy. Sebastian and Claude however, were seething. 

Ciel’s stomach clenched with worry as the shoulder sit approached. He knew Lizzie would help him but balancing a grown woman on his shoulder for eight counts was still slightly unnerving. Counting to himself, he wrapped his hands around her waist and held on tight. He felt Lizzie’s knees bend, the force of her jump to aid him, and lifted her with all his might. 

He felt her sit on his shoulder and braced his core for all he was worth, minutely adjusting his grip as he paraded around the studio for the full eight beats, arms trembling as he gently lowered her and exhaled in relief. They still had half the combo to get through, but the worst was over. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur, and before Ciel knew it, it was time to pack up and go home. After that day, he was in need of a cold shower. 

”We’ll have the list of groups and pairs ready for you next week, and we’ll start rehearsing in the afternoons,” Claude told them as he rubbed his glasses clean with a handful of his shirt. “Good work today, you’re released.” 

~~~~~

True to his word, Claude had the list emailed to everyone in the company the following Sunday evening. Scanning the attachment quickly for his name, Ciel saw that he would be dancing in a trio with Lizzie and Finny, a number with the rest of the men in the company, and the full company number. His heart fell slightly when he realized he wouldn’t be dancing in any of the paired numbers. Why? His partner audition had gone well enough, better than many he’d done before. The end of the list advised them to reach out to Claude with any questions, and Ciel decided to do just that the next day. 

When he arrived at the studio in the morning, his fellow dancers were talking excitedly about the showcase. In addition to the full company number, the four directors would also be doing a number. Ciel had missed that in the email, but it would be wonderful to see Sebastian perform again. 

Ciel placed his bag on the floor and nudged off his sneakers, kicking them to the side. Glancing up, he saw Claude standing a few steps away from the other directors, staring intently at his phone. Figuring now was as good a time as any, Ciel carefully approached him. 

”Excuse me, Mr. Faustus?” Claude looked up from his phone, starting slightly. 

”Ah, Phantomhive. Did you need something?” 

”Yes,” Ciel replied hesitantly. “The list said to see you if we had any questions, and, well… I was wondering why I wasn’t put in any of the partnered numbers.” He hesitated, briefly thinking about what else to say so that he wouldn’t sound petulant. “I’d really appreciate any feedback, things you saw at the audition, so I can work on it. I know partnering isn’t my best skill but I’d really like to improve.” 

Claude nodded sagely, the boy’s soul calling out to him. He was guileless to a fault, far from trying to worm his way into Claude’s good graces with honeyed words. He genuinely wanted to improve, his passion for dance his only motivation. 

”I’m afraid that this time it was unfortunately due to your size mostly. Your partnering skill is about average, but you are the smallest man in our company.” A pause. “Never fear, we’ve discussed the upcoming season and there will be other opportunities for you to dance with a partner.” 

Ciel nodded, sensing that was all he was going to get out of the golden-eyed dancer. “Great, thanks very much.” He turned somewhat awkwardly and shuffled back to his bag, sitting down to pull on his ballet shoes and prepare for the morning barre. 

After the barre and their morning class, Claude gave them the day’s showcase rehearsal schedule. “We’ll do a short class when we come back, after that I’d like the trio- Ciel, Lizzie, and Finny- in the blackbox with me, Hannah and Cheslock in here with Will and Grell, and the rest of you in studio two with Sebastian to start learning the company number. You’re released for lunch.” 

The lunch hour and shortened afternoon class went by incredibly fast, and before he knew it, Ciel was walking between Lizzie and Finny to the company’s performance space. It was a decently [black box](https://www.actingstudiotx.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/blackboxMCL.jpg) theater, slightly larger than the main studio and laid out in a square, with bleachers of padded seating on each side that could be moved depending on what the space was being used for. 

The three dancers deposited their bags in the first row of seats and put their ballet shoes on, twisting their toes and heels into the floor to get a feel for it. “Right,” Claude began, tossing his notebook onto the floor and pushing his spectacles up his nose, “Let’s get started.” A pause. 

”Your pas de trois is going to be set to [Aram Khachaturian's Masquerade Waltz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPp3Qh-GRqs&t=7s), come have a listen.” He pulled up the song on his phone, the three dancers gathering around him as he plugged the device into a small speaker. Ciel nodded his head along with the waltz’s beat, getting a feel for the music and the timing. 

Claude cut the music about halfway through the song. “Right, let’s get started.” He picked up his notebook and his eyes darted over what he had written. “Okay, to start we’ll have Lizzie down stage center, Ciel up left, and Finny up right. Boys start facing diagonally out, Lizzie straight on. We’ll be having the seats set up on three sides.” The three dancers moved to theirs starting positions, waiting to be given their next directions. 

Claude walked each of them through the first three counts of eight, where their paths crossed but the dancers never met, ships passing in the night. His choreography was rooted in ballet technique, but with a distinctively lyrical and modern flavor. Classic and contemporary coming together. 

The demon’s gaze flickered back and forth between the three dancers as they ran through the first few counts, but always lingered a moment too long on Ciel. He hadn’t been sampling souls through dance as long as Sebastian had, but he was a fast learner, and Ciel’s exquisite essence was hard to miss. Even when paired with two other delectable souls, Lizzie of ice cream and sharp oranges, and Finny of bright summer and rain, Ciel stood out. The purest, most conflicted and corrupted soul he had ever seen. Sebastian would _not_ have this one, even if it killed him. 

Claude shook himself out of his reverie as they reached their current stopping point. “Right, good. Ciel go deeper into that plié-“ He spread his feet shoulder width apart and bent his knees, twisting his upper body to mark the place in the choreography he was talking about. “Get deeper and when you reach, reach from all the way back here.” 

Without asking, he moved into Ciel’s space and positioned his arm, holding his hand and guiding his arm through the motion. “The movement should come from across your back, through your chest and out.” Ciel nodded, fighting a shiver at Claude’s cold, almost slimy touch. 

They rehearsed in this vein for the next two hours, moving through the choreography with brief stops for notes. Claude never wasted an opportunity to move into Ciel’s space, to speak directly to him in a low growl, to elicit goosebumps on his shoulder under the strap of his tank top. Ciel knew Sebastian was interested in him as a dancer, and possibly in him as a person, but Claude? He had never indicated as such. More likely, Ciel had missed it, being so besotted by Sebastian’s attentions. 

He grew more uncomfortable as the rehearsal went on, the feeling of anxiety and something being not quite right growing in his chest until the end of the day. Claude released them with his usual, “Good work, you’re released,” before heading in the direction of the company office. Giving himself a shake, Ciel packed his bag, not really listening to Lizzie speaking to him. 

”Ciel!” she half shouted, “Are you even listening? I was asking if you wanted to get curry with me and Finny!” Ciel gave her a bashful smile. 

”Sorry, wasn’t paying attention. I’m not feeling too great, I didn’t sleep well again last night. I think I’ll pass tonight, but definitely next time.” Lizzie’s face fell. 

”Alright then. See you tomorrow, hope you feel better!” Ciel waved from his seat as the two of them left the theater, smiling at their backs. He felt bad for turning her down, but the knot of anxiety in his stomach hadn’t gone away, and he really was quite exhausted. 

He was still lost in his own thoughts as he left the theater, meandering slowly towards the door where he nearly bumped into Sebastian. “Oh, sorry-“ he stuttered, catching himself before he tripped, “Got distracted.” Sebastian gave him a concerned look. 

”It’s no problem, but… Phantomhive- Ciel, you look pale. Is everything alright?” Ciel’s space was invaded by a demon for the second time that day as Sebastian pressed the back of his hand to Ciel’s forehead. A flush rose to the dancer’s cheeks. 

”I promise I’m alright, just a little… unsettled, I think. We had our first rehearsal with Mr. Faustus today and it was quite different than what I was expecting.” A pause. “He’s quite hands on.” 

A brief flash of anger touched Sebastian’s face, but he quickly composed himself. “Yes,” he murmured distractedly, “He can be quite direct. But, as you will be spending much of your time in these studios and with us, I want you to feel safe.” His hand moved to Ciel’s shoulder with an expression of genuine care. This was beyond soliciting his soul; Sebastian was really concerned for the boy’s welfare, like the owner of a prized racehorse. Anger was rippling through him at the idea of Claude tainting this young man in any way, whether physically or emotionally. 

Sebastian was already thinking of Ciel as his, beyond one in possession of a meal. What in the nine circles of hell was _wrong_ with him? 

”Thanks,” Ciel murmured, focusing his gaze on Sebastian’s toned chest rather than those brown eyes, or were they red? No, they were the color of deep red autumn leaves just starting to turn brown. “See you tomorrow, Sebastian.” The spritely dancer shrugged Sebastian’s hand off his shoulder as he turned to leave, throwing a bashful smile over his shoulder. Sebastian murmured to his retreating back, 

”Until tomorrow, Ciel.” 

~~~~~

Sebastian slowly walked the three blocks from the studio to his flat, thinking hard about the auditions. Specifically, thinking about the brief moments he spent marking the partner combo with Ciel. No doubt the boy was a skilled dancer, but his soul was by far the most delectable the demon had sampled. This sampling was the whole reason he began dancing in the first place. Humans had perfected the art of hiding just about anything they wanted behind pretty words and false faces, but art never lied. The way a person’s body moved when they danced, no matter their skill level, never lied. Watching someone dance for a few hours told Sebastian everything he could want to know about the quality of their soul. 

Once inside, he leaned back against the door, softly closing it with a sigh and turning the lock with a practiced hand. The one bedroom apartment was austere and immaculate, darkly inviting in shades of black, grey, and navy. Moving on autopilot, his bag landed on the floor next to the entrance, shoes were toed off, and he crossed the living space to his bedroom. Lounge clothes were pulled on, dirty clothes went in the hamper, an apple was grabbed from the fridge, and he sat himself on the couch. 

He had just gotten comfortable when his phone began to ring. Not once, but multiple times. Someone was calling him. Rolling his eyes and grumbling, Sebastian stood and dug his phone out of his bag, frowning when he saw Claude’s name on the lockscreen. 

”What?” he spat instead of answering with a hello. 

”We need to talk,” Claude ground out. “All four of us. Tonight. Trafalgar Square, ten pm.” 

”I see you three enough during the day,” Sebastian replied with a roll of his eyes, pacing around the living room. “I have much better things to do with my night.” 

”It’s about Ciel.” That stopped Sebastian in his tracks, his grip tightening on his phone as he choked down his anger. 

”Are you challenging me?” he growled softly into the phone, the silence stretching thin as he waited for Claude’s answer. 

”Yes. Will and Grell as witnesses. If I win, you relinquish any designs on the boy’s soul. Are we agreed?” Sebastian sighed; what a nuisance. 

”Agreed. Ten pm.” 

~~~~~

Trafalgar Square was practically deserted this time of night. The only other people were those who roamed the streets, too caught in their own worlds to notice the tension between the four otherworldly beings, nor to be afraid of what was about to happen. 

”You can’t be serious Claude,” Grell pouted, glancing nervously between the two demons. “It’s just one soul.” 

”You know as well as I that Ciel’s soul is beyond rare, it is a soul unlike anything we have ever seen. And it will be mine.” Grell sighed. It was true: both she and Will could also sense the darkly pure quality of Ciel’s soul, the depth of its flavor. She sighed; only demons would go this far for one pesky soul. 

Sebastian and Claude were standing at opposite ends of the square, both clad in black. Their auras and power rippled into the air around them, creating such a feeling of dread and foreboding that any human still in the vicinity was frightened into leaving, letting the nameless beings in the dark be about their business. Sebastian’s fingers twitched with anticipation; he was eager for this to be done with so he could go back home and lay on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling until it was time for him to get ready for the next day. 

”Alright,” Will called to the two of them from the middle of the square, sounding as exasperated as Sebastian felt. “The terms have been discussed and agreed upon. No mortal wounds. If there is no victor by midnight, I will declare this match a draw. Go ahead.” In a blur of darkness, Sebastian and Claude charged at each other, fighting with the power of their essence as much as their physical forms. The darkness in the square intensified and roiled like a hurricane as the two creatures of darkness battled for dominance. Grell’s eyes darted back and forth, trying to make out either of the combatants as they went at it. Will however, appeared beyond bored, and was scrolling mindlessly on his phone. 

At 11:52, the match was decided. Sebastian and Claude both rematerialized in the square, their clothes torn in various places and black trails of their essences leaking from their fingertips like smoke. Claude looked infinitely worse than when they had started: his complexion was much paler than usual, his eyes were bloodshot, and black veins could be seen spidering across the backs of his hands and his forehead. 

Sebastian on the other hand appeared to have barely broken a sweat. He was breathing a bit heavier, but seemed otherwise unscathed. Grell couldn’t help a pleased and relieved smile, clapping her hands and jumping up and down a bit. 

”Now, if that’s done, my friend,” Sebastian taunted Claude, “I’d like to head home and prepare for tomorrow. Good evening.” Without waiting for permission to go, he turned his back on his three friends (and sometimes enemies) and walked off into the night toward his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos, questions on ballet terminology (or anything), come one come all!! Hope you enjoy!  
> Bother me on Tumblr @AralezInSpace


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